A light's flicker
by Kenaeshia
Summary: Everyone in their life has a time where they are beaten up. In Pitch's case it unfortunately happened to be physically after his fall, being food to his own creations and those that had made him what he is. You on the other hand would offer any broken soul that crosses your way help, even if afraid of them. Fear that keeps him standing. [ Pitch x Reader, friendship. T to be safe. ]
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Hello there. I dislike giving long AN's at the start, but I can't live without saying a few things.

This being the first time I am planning on actually playing a character that is not created by myself, I definitely will mess up his personality, and I apologize for that. It hurts me as well. I will also be leaving out details about your appearance and house, such as where you are. This is because as a reader, I wish for you to be able to fill that in with your own memories and imagination. Personally, I find these [H/C] and such very distracting, and therefor will only leave space for a name later on.

Otherwise... Currently this is planned to be a very short story. I only put it in several chapters because I am a sucker for that.  
Critiques are very welcome, and otherwise... Hope the first part is not too terrible.

* * *

For a person such as yourself, this display of a light slowly loosing its bright glow, flickering on and off in uneven rhythms, was as much of a cliche as it was food for thought, having always been one to look for deeper meanings in such simple things that occur without mankind's tight grip and schedule influencing any of it, even if often not planning to do so. It was no set of words with which these little wonders were to be explained, should one ask. It was almost impossible, putting your imagination, such detailed images, into a form others would be able to grasp and understand. To see and relate. So many thoughts run through your head, the only ones to pull you away from reality, from this cruel place where everyone walks blindly past the hurt and chaos they bring upon themselves, making you wonder what has to happen for them to appreciate the sight they have been given and open not only mind or heart, but both of them. They were meant to work together, to cooperate, not fight, nor sleep while the other holds al reins, unable to carry all burdens and still choose all the better decisions.

It would be wrong to assume you are the onlly human to see this, but it is hard at times. To often the feeling of loneliness takes over, no matter the amount of people surrounding you, having become a friend many years ago, alongside silence, who leaves space for your thoughts, making it easier to sort them out and simply be free for a while. To let go of forced trains of thought that shove itself in your mind when amongst others, barely leaving room for those you call your ownm distracting you. Or wishing to, but never fully take over, unable to shut away what has been there for so long, keeping you company at any time. Always listening, always caring. Never disappointing, never leaving. Always by your side.

Even now, as your feet carry you through this small city, over the concrete floor, streets empty of cars, the moon's bright but soothing light shining down on what appeared so lifeless during a cold night of autumn such as the one brought by a dark blanket over earth's one side, small dots of white glow spread across an inky black. Your clothes kept you fairly warm, while many times the wind had traveled through your hair, having it now ask for a hairbrush. Unfortunate, but nothing too critical. It is just hair, you are not going anywhere anymore, and even if someone were to pass by and be lucky enough to do so while a lantern's light granted clear sight, who cared about some messed up hair at this time of night? How unnecessary that would be. And up to now, barely anyone had been spotted by your wondering eyes, only a few people here and there, entering their house, getting their care, or even talking on the phone but harrying all the same.

There were benches with lanterns to their side along the road from time to time, even their simple existence, standing there without a soul, brought imagination and thoughts to life, occupying your mind easily. It was so calm, so silent. Such beautiful display, creations of nature's enemy no longer carrying the fearful look of a threat to what is in their way. As if they have been laid to rest by night's blanket.

Many did not understand why you went outside so late almost every day, and they never would, not seeing things as you did.

How much darkness with a touch of light could offer, giving daylight a burning feeling no one light.

What pulled you out of your thoughts was the sudden flicker of light brought by a lantern next to you, eyes moving away from the empty bench beneath, up to what was merely a fragment of shining contrast to darkened roads, fighting for its right to life, soon reborn into its prime, you no longer taking interest in such bright burn.

Back down your sight went, only to send a jump to your heart from shock, thought neither movement nor expression complied, remaining calm while eyes began to fill with wonder and unrest. That bench- you could have sworn it was empty the first time you looked. No, you **know** it was empty. You were not one to stop paying attention when enjoying silence, your eyes never lied. And yet, someone now sat there, even with the now functioning light appearing dark, most of the shine refusing to land on their partially ripped coat of black shade, head lowered and hands hold together in lap, it did not seem like your presence had been noticed yet. At least no sign to proof otherwise was there. Their hair combed back, it was not long enough to fall down in the fashion of a veil, but remained neatly where it was, despite a few strains out of place here and there. You guess went to amazing volumes or gel, though the latter could not be, it was missing the certain look of such.

Actually, neither of these options would-_wait._

You interrupted your own rambling about the hair in raven feather's color as something red caught your gaze, a red that definitely was no paint. There was no need to see it at a daylie basis to know that was was leaving tiny drops of red liquid on this person's folded hands had indeed been blood, seemingly coming from a wound on their face, but you could not make much out from this distance and perspective. The odd fact of them having grey skin slipped your mind quickly, assuming it was because of the light and such, and most thoughts were busy with figuring out what to do. Of course, a hurt person should be helped, but who knew what the story behind this was. Maybe they were not the victim after all, or could suffer of shock to a degree at which everyone becomes the enemy.

Once in such a situation, the risks are suddenly so clear before one's view.

But was this not what hold back people all the time? The fear of being hurt, the fear of pain, afraid to loose their life.

Yes, that was it. Did this count for you as well? Your mind began to wander, uncertain of the answer. No one liked to get hurt in normal cases, taking no liking to unwanted pain. But death? Death, in the end, is painless. Final. There will be no mind left for regret, for worry. For fear. Then where does this hesitation come from? Left to your thoughts, gaze on the bright moon out of your eyes's corner, it distracted you, silence still ruling over this place, and it was just then, when a silken but dangerous voice rang to your ears, that you noticed how the person- a man- had by now raised his head to look at you.

,,You are afraid."

It was unsettling in a strange way. Were it the marks of animal's claws here and there on his face that gave this feeling of danger? Nonsense. They more lifted off some of it, showing that he is vulnerable. But his statement. Are you? Are you reading into this too much again? Could not be. It was not only what he said, but this voice of british origin and something unable to be described. The worry- the pity- drowned in fear for one's own safety, not wishing to stay in this man's- this being's – presence, beautiful darkness and dancing shadows turning into the terrifying depths from which monsters crawl out as most children are taught.

The big question, nonetheless, was_ Why? Why am I suddenly afraid? Nothing changed._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I forgot to mention that I am very lazy. Full AN at the bottom for those wishing to read it. But otherwise I would like to know if you wish for me to go in a certain direction, like adding a friend or maybe pet. Any suggestions in general. My writing is for my practice and your enjoyment, so feel free to tell me.

* * *

No, nothing did, but neither would you be one to care much. At least not before refusing silence to speak for itself, as it surely had a habit of doing such.  
Or rather, the mind of those withing said silence, simply assuming. Something no one liked.

,,Everyone is afraid of something."

What a pathetic attempt at pushing this topic away from yourself, and you know it. But it was no lie, and now where your attention was his, it was impossible for you to ignore the golden hue of his eyes. Is that an uncommon shade of brown? No, that definitely is gold, pure and magnificent within a certain darkness. As beautiful as it appeared, those eyes were inhuman! There was no such color to have unless done something to them, and you might not be completely sure from here, and even though their glimmer was anything but unreal, your thoughts went to contact lenses. Had to be, how else would you explain that? It made this situation even more unsettling than it already is.

Arms crossed behind your back, a monotone but polite expression hid the confusion of your thoughts, how they went astray, though your reply brought an almost too soft smile on to the other one's face. Not gentle like that of a father, but a knowing one, satisfied even, accompanied by mischievousness tainting orbs of deadly gold. Not a moment later, he rose up from his seat, hands moved behind his back as well, right one placed in his left. The first thing one noticed was how tall this man is, and slender but not weak, nor fragile, giving him a threatening look all together, despite this coat almost looking like a dress in this light until you notice how it hangs open, which was almost impossible to notice.

Not because of the darkness of night, but because towards his chest grey skin became even darker, almost black, also making it difficult to notice that his coat was what concealed his chest, not a shirt, to a fair degree. A bit less light and you would have not noticed at all. There needed to be an explanation, anything that gave such looks some sense. It seemed much too real to be paint, even from the distance you stood at. A polite but safe distance, giving you some advantage when there would be the need to run.

,,Oh, certainly.", a deep chuckle underlined his words, as haunting as his appearance. Those wounds slowly began to add to it, rather than offering slight relief. Afterall, whatever had caused them, is not here, high chances that it died, while this man stood there, not paying attention to them, not even one that trailed over both lips. That must have been painful. Well, the whole fight must have been.

,,But you are afraid this very moment, are you not? Afraid of the consequences your actions will bring.", his smile still present, this guy seemed serious. The knocking in your head to protest was strong, to tell him you are not afraid, like children often did. But you stood above that, not stooping to such low niveau, catching yourself before bursting out, putting on a smile as well.

,,All things considered, my fear is quite justified."

Still, true it was. But the regret of leaving a wounded person just in the dark alone, no matter how fearful their presence, would nag on your mind longer than the pain of a wound. And your home would be safe even with a stranger, no? After all you knew where knives are, where to run, and are more familiar with it in general. And you definitely wanted to know how it is possible for a human to look that way, because there was no such thing as 'supernatural'. That belonged into movies and books.

,,That it is indeed."

Paying no mind to the amusement in his silken voice, you unfold your arms, leaving them to hang freely at your sides, tired of confusing thoughts that brought neither answer nor progress. Your mind was to escape from reality, not questioning it. At least not in a way of asking how. It always was 'why'. And to that you could come back later.

,,Before continuing this conversation, let's patch you up first. I live nearby and whatever messed up your face did a good job."

Most of the honest worry in your voice was conquered by indifference, leaving only a hint of it, but just enough for him to notice, the raising of a bald eyebrow indicating such, as well as an awkward moment of silence. Confusion took over the other's expression, smile fading, soon the second brow raised as well, a curious tone carried by his voice as the uncomfortable break in this 'conversation' was finally over. But what train of thought traveled through his head was difficult to figure at this point.

,,Yes.", and there was the smile again, with fortunately a slightly softer gaze than before, though still one that hid unclear intent.  
This started to become creepy, rather than only unsettling. ,,An appreciated offer, child. Lead the way."

Child? Close enough.  
You huffed, motioning him to follow with a short tilt of your head while beginning to walk in the direction you had come from, but looking over your shoulder to make sure the man followed. And that he did, catching up to walk beside you not with short and quick steps but rather long and elegant ones.

,,I'm not that young.", it was a humorous protest, a still showing smile confirming such, looking over to your, temporary, companion for a second.

,,To me you are."

How familiar that sounded.

Be it from adult to teenager, or teenager to child. Everyone most likely gets to hear some variation of it sooner or later, if not more than once. For a while it is quite understandable, but at some point these sayings are simply something to mentally roll eyes at, having become worn-out, irrelevant that currently it is true. Who knows how old he is. Not as als as one would believe a grandfather to be, but neither a young man. At least when based on his looks. Then again, appearances can lie. Easily.

,,Does this enable me to ask for your age without being rude?", your smile was an honest one, as seen in those usually absent eyes, just like your question that worked its way around being blunt was serious.

,,It does, but I will leave you to your guess.", it seemed to have amused him, almost bringing forth a short laugh according to his voice. How odd. Not something expected from one that brings scares to others, reminding you how judgemental humans can be, even if not wished to be. At times, the mind goes its own way behind your back, the consequences, in this case surprise, still yours. The one closest to your difficult and and private thoughts able to turn from friend to enemy quickly in most sudden moments, becoming such a traitor.

,,A shame. You had me curious there.", slight disappointment proved it was no lie.  
It was nothing critical, but would have been nice to know, especially at a point like this, where it is so unclear.

,,That I figured."

* * *

**Author's** **Note:** Thanks for all the attention, be it follor, favourite or review. c: It helps a lot with not giving up on this that early.  
As for the one guest; Yes, I indeed write a lot. Though, mostly roleplays, which is why I am still trying to get the hang of 'playing' more than one or two characters and describe their interaction without being based on that of another person entirely. Hence the lack of Pitch's thoughts. I also tend to work more with thoughts than descriptions of surroundings. This whole thing is practice outside my comfort zone.

I also plan nothing and simply write what comes to mind and seems fitting. The chapters are formed after what I see would be a good moment to cut it. I have in fact written more than this already, and had so for at least a week. I was just too much of a lazy person to re-write it on the PC because it was on paper. This whole idea came from one simple thing; I was walking to a friend's house, and next to their gate was a lantern. The moment I stepped into the light of said lantern, it began to flicker and its light only lived for a few seconds from time to time.


End file.
